Night Sentry or Lack Thereof
by Scarlet Kratos
Summary: Two hours of forced sleeplessness leads Emil to his captivating follower. More than harsh words are exchanged between the two, however... RichterxEmil, implied MartaxEmil


**Night Sentry (or Lack Thereof)**

I haven't put a story up in a while...

A somewhat silly short that was the result of a creative spurt. Boredom plus Dawn of a New World equals random EmilxRichter oneshot. Enjoy.

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It was his turn for the first shift of night sentry. But he hated it, every single second of it. Trying to stave off rest to keep his friends safe...it terrified him. As he heard the noises of Marta, Regal, Sheena, and Tenebrae settling into an uneasy sleep, he sat up with a blanket, his back to the dieing fire. It was going to be a long two hours before he woke Regal.

The chatter died slowly as his group members slowly fell asleep around him. A murmured "goodnight, Emil," was whispered from somewhere off to his right, and soon he was the only one up.

The quiet nearly made him fall sleep himself. Twice, he caught himself, shaking himself awake. Desperate for a distraction, Emil looked towards Marta. Her soft, hitched breathing told him that she settled into a somewhat discomforting sleep, probably dreaming about her headcase of a father. He glanced around, watching the gently rising and falling of Tenebrae's form, the quiet snores of Regal, and the still, breathing form of Sheena. He sighed, yawning a bit, then turned back to the pink-haired girl to his right.

Marta looked so...vunerable. Curled underneath her thin blanket, even cowardly Emil wished he was strong enough to protect her. Emil stretched out a hand, cautiously, before wincing and quickly drawing his hand back. He held it against his chest, sighing.

It was so futile. Marta viewed him as her "knight in shining armor", or as she so frequently informed him, but it wasn't really Emil himself who was protecting her...it was Ratatosk. The very power that he fought for protected him, and her in turn. He was no knight.

"...I'm so weak," he murmured, turning his back to his group and the dying embers of the fire, wrapping his own blanket around his shoulders. His own self-inflicted misery tormented him while he pulled his blanket over his head. His friend's sleeping breaths and the quiet emptiness of the moonless night soon enveloped him. There were a few comforting companions, however; the gentle whistle of the wind through the grass, the chirruping of crickets around him, the soft crunching of grass underfoot in the distance...

...Crunching of grass?

Emil threw the blanket over his head, stumbling to his feet. He shakily unsheathed his sword as he scanned the weeds and bushes around their makeshift campsight.

"Sh-show yourself!" Emil squeaked, voice barely audible. A soft sigh behind him told him that his companions had not even been roused by his silent display of fake bravado. His hands were shaking. A cold sweat broke out.

_I'm so cowardly,_ he thought with desperation.

The crunching footsteps paused, as if the owner were hesitating at the sight of light in the distance, but then they continued abruptly in Emil's very direction. Emil gulped. However, a more pressing matter was slowly dawning on him.

_I'm not transforming...!_

A dark figure appeared in the swallowing blackness of the moonless night. His whole body tremored, yet he could not feel the familiar rage that overtook him when he drew his sword. He ran forward, away from the campsite. _I have to protect Marta!_ Emil thought desperately. But try as he might, he could not call upon Ratatosk's power.

_I-I'm not transforming!!_

"C-come on! I'm n-not af-afraid of you!" Emil said, his voice cracking several times, stopping several yards in front of the figure. He noticed the glint of glasses...a human? A member of the Vangard? His grip on his sword was beginning to slip.

"...Emil, I'm not seeking a fight," a familiar voice said. Emil nearly collapsed in relief.

"R-Richter! W-what are you doing here?" Emil managed, attempting (and failing) to sound calm. Richter stopped a few feet away and observed him sternly, meeting Emil's green eyes with his own sharp ones. Emil quickly averted his gaze, suddenly overcome.

"I do award you certain kudos for being alert, but I would imagine you would at least wake your companions at the sound of danger. Or, at the very least, you'd be able to recognize me at a distance of twenty feet," Richter said, sighing. Emil shakily sheathed his sword, letting out a nervous laugh. It had been rather stupid not to wake at least someone else to cover his back, but then again, he could barely even remember unsheathing his sword in his state of panic.

"Y-yeah, I uh...was startled," Emil said, lowering his head. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize needlessly," Richter growled. Emil blushed.

"I'm sorr - uh, uhm...what are you doing around here, Richter?" Emil hastily added. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet the redhead's guarded eyes. Emil had never noticed how much Richter seemed to scrutinize him when they were together. The constant eye contact make Emil blush once more and lower his gaze.

"I don't see why it is your business," Richter said curtly, turning his back on the blonde. Emil mumbled a usual apology, but quickly stifled it. It was as though anything he said bothered Richter. And yet, there was a gentle quality to his rebuking.

"Richter...why are you always so nice to me?" he braved. Richter raised an eyebrow.

"Nice? I am hardly nice. I am just being human, Emil."

"Yeah, b-but...your actions are more closer to Marta's and my other friends than anyone else I know."

"Emil, you can't possibly believe that you are not deserving of kindess," Richter said in disgust. "You, who feel bad for the very monsters you're slaying."

"I-I'm not surprised when someone shows me kindness. I just mean you. You're always out to get Marta, but you always stop short of killing me. Why?"

At this, Richter was silent. Emil sighed, shaking his head. "I just don't understand." Emil stepped closer to Richter, close enough until he felt the warmth between them. Richter seemed slightly taken aback. But his own questions seemed to arouse more curiosity.

"There's no need for you to know," Richter growled abruptly, turning his back. Emil stared at the back of his head.

"Richter...tell me...why are you here tonight?" Emil said.

"What do you think?" Richter hissed, keeping his back to the boy. Emil felt a sudden wave of anger flood him, yet it was not the rage that fueled Ratatosk.

"Are you following us? To come kill Marta again?" Emil asked, eyes narrowed. "Richter, if it had been Marta who was wandering out to fight a supposed monster, what would you have done? Would you have killed her?"

Richter didn't even turn around. He seemed to wanted to speak, but couldn't bring himself to.

"Richter! Answer me!" Frustration flooded him. "Richter! Answer me, dammit!"

The redhead took a second of silence, seemingly shocked by Emil's sudden outburst, but then resigned himself to a quiet, almost calm voice.

"I would take Ratatosk's core. You said so yourself."

"So you would kill her, even though I was so close," Emil said, shaking. "You would give no regards to how I, Tenebrae, or anyone else would think of about it, for that matter."

A second of silence. "Yes."

"Why?" Emil hissed at Richter's back. "Why is Ratatosk's core so important that you would take a life for it?"

"In the wrong hands, it can do no good -"

"Marta's hands are perfectly fine, good, and caring! She would not hurt a soul with that core! Tell me, Richter, why do you need it?!"

Richter heaved a sigh, but it was not his usual exasperated exhalation; it more seemed to be attempting to contain his own anger.

"Answer me!" Emil spat, his voice distorting. "Why do you need the core so badly? Why is it every time you need to kill Marta! _My_ Marta!" Emil's voice was rising quickly, seeming to lose control of himself. Richter lost his last shred of patience as he spun around and took a threatening step forward.

"If I may a question of my own, why do you insist on remaining on Ratatosk's side? He is a demon lord! He is evil! You fall into his anger - that is how you fight! It's not you fighting, it's you possessed by a monster!" Richter hissed, grabbing Emil by the shoulders. "Do you not see?! You are so easily possessed, yet sometimes when you need him the most, he abandons you! Tonight I could have easily killed you and Marta and taken the core for myself, yet I cannot bring myself to take your life! And you, you who fawn so desperately over this Marta girl, rather than seeing reason - it makes me want to kill her all the more!"

Richter was shaking him. Emil felt tears slowly creep into his vision.

"He didn't protect me tonight because I didn't _need_ protecting!" Emil cried, trying twisting himself loose from Richter's grasp. "R-Ratatosk only protects me when I'm in danger, or when I'm mad! I wasn't either tonight! And he's good, he's just called the lord of all monsters, but that doesn't make him evil! And M-Marta is my trusted friend! If I didn't protect her, then what kind of p-person am I?"

Richter noticed his blurry eyes immediately, and quickly let go of the boy. Emil fell back, feeling hot tears slide down his faces. He quickly wiped them away, humiliated.

"Emil, I'm sorry," Richter said gently. He reached out and wiped away a stray tear off of Emil's cheek. Emil blushed further, but turned away from him.

"Y-you should go," Emil said unevenly. "You've pr-probably woken the others, and they won't be like m-me when they find you."

"No, Emil, please, listen," Richter said, grabbing Emil's arm. Emil looked up, surprised. Richter drew him into a hug, a deep, powerful grasp that was more possessive than anything Emil had ever been shown.

"...I'm sorry. I did not mean to unleash my anger on you," he whispered into the blonde's hair. "Please...forgive me." Emil felt a shiver crawl down his whole body at that voice, so close to his ear. All of Richter filled his senses - his musky warm scent, his silken red hair enveloping Emil's vision, and his strong, muscular arms that wrapped so protectively around Emil's shoulders. A strange pain seemed to be thumping in his heart, a pain he had only ever felt once with Marta, when they shyly exchanged apologies in the Ice Temple. Yet, with this man holding him, the pain was so acute that Emil was dizzy.

"Richter..." Emil murmured, his damp eyes hazy. Richter held him for a moment longer, before abruptly letting him go. Emil stepped back unsteadily, but Richter caught his arm before he could fall backwards.

"E-Emil?" It was the first time Emil had ever heard the man stumble in his words.

Emil felt the stiffness in his knees go completely at the sound of that voice saying his name in such a caring tone. Richter immediately caught him, falling to one knee to cradle the boy on the ground.

"Emil!" Richter said, gently holding the confused, dizzy boy in his arms.

"Ric...Ricther," Emil whispered. Richter leaned in, trying to catch the soft voice.

"Yes?" he murmured.

"I'm...I'm tired," Emil mumbled, resting his head on the redhaired man's chest as he closed his eyes. It was too much emotion for one night after fighting for a full day. He heard Richter's sigh, but it was not a bemused one.

"Emil?"

Emil heard distant footfalls, accompanying the carrying voices. Emil felt Richter shift his body to see the newcomers, and he heard the redhead's disappointed scoff.

"Emil?! Emiiil!" It was Marta's worried voice this time. Emil groaned, hit with a pang of guilt.

"Looks like your friends are on time," Richter murmured, lifting himself and Emil to their feet. Emil opened his eyes groggily to come to face-to-face with Richter's startling green eyes. Emil started, turning his head away as he blushed furiously. He heard Richter chuckle.

"Emil? Where are you?"

"See you later," Richter murmured. Emil protested weakly, but Richter gave him one half smile before spinning around and pelting off into the darkness. Before Emil could blink twice, Richter's form was disappearing into the dark night. Emil stared after his silhouette, before he vanished altogether.

"Emil? Emiiil?! ...Emil!"

Emil turned around, seeing his Marta and his friends closing in. He sighed, resigning himself to guilty apologies as he walked over to assure them that he was okay. They welcomed him, and soon he was showered in healing magic and worried questions.

But even as Marta enveloped him in a hug, Emil could only think of Richter.

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Reviews encourage me to write moar. 3


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